


One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

by MimiWritesHerFandoms



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Depressed Bucky Barnes, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:07:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23097574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MimiWritesHerFandoms/pseuds/MimiWritesHerFandoms
Summary: A new tech arrives at Stark Industries.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 15
Kudos: 113





	One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

“Be nice, okay?” Steve said. He put his hand on Bucky’s chest, stopping his friend in the center of the hallway, forcing him to make eye contact. “She’s just here to do her job.”

“I know, Steve,” Bucky snapped. “You have reminded me about a hundred times since we left my room and got in the elevator. Don’t bite her head off, don’t yell at her, smile and nod, give her a chance, blah, blah, blah. I got it.” He reached for the door, but Steve stepped in front of him, arms crossed over his chest.

“I’m serious, Buck,” he said sternly. “Do not give this woman a hard time. I mean it.”

“I won’t,” Bucky sighed. “I promise.”

Steve stepped to the side and let Bucky open the door to the lab. When his friend tried to follow him, Bucky slammed the door in his face and stuck his tongue out at him. Steve rolled his eyes, but he didn’t try to follow him.

Bucky took a deep breath, his fingers twitching against his leg. “Hello?” he called.

No one answered him right away, so he walked across the lab and sat on one of the stools by the counter, flipping through a book sitting on the shelf. He’d been there almost ten minutes and was thinking about leaving, maybe head back to the gym or back to his room, maybe watch that movie Steve had given him when the door on the far side of the lab opened and a woman stepped inside, a clipboard in her hand. She gave him a tentative smile, squared her shoulders, and came to stand in front of him.

“Sergeant Barnes?” she asked, a slight tremor in her voice.

Bucky raised an eyebrow and smiled gently. “Yes, ma’am,” he replied. “But you can call me Bucky.”

She nodded and glanced at her clipboard again. She cleared her throat, opened her mouth, then closed it again. “Sergeant Barnes...I mean Bucky...sorry.” She stopped, exhaled, then tried once more. “My name is Y/N Y/L/N and I will be helping you, when necessary, with your new arm.”

Bucky could detect the slightest hint of an accent. He tipped his head, trying to catch her eye. When she finally looked at him, he smiled. Again.

“Are you Wakandan?” he asked.

“I am,” she replied. “I lived there until I was sixteen. My parents moved to England so I could study at Oxford University.”

“Have you been home recently?” he asked.

“Yes,” she nodded. “I spent the last three months at home, working with Princess Shuri, learning the intricacies of the arm she developed for you. I offered to come to the United States to work at Stark Industries so someone would be available to you at all times. Because the arm is untested, Princess Shuri is concerned about problems with the calibrations and other things, especially considering what your line of work is -”

“Assassin?” Bucky mumbled.

“My understanding is that you are no longer an assassin, but rather an...Avenger? Am I incorrect in that assumption?”

It was his turn to clear his throat. “That remains to be seen,” he muttered. 

An uncomfortable silence filled the room. Y/N fiddled with her pen and clipboard, before setting it down on the counter. She came to stand beside him.

“May I look at your arm?” she asked.

“Of course,” Bucky nodded, glad for the subject change. He stripped off his jacket and the t-shirt he was wearing as well, laying them on the counter and turning sideways in his seat, his head turned away from her, though he could see her in the reflection of the glass window. She gnawed on her lip and rocked back and forth on her toes for a minute before a determined look settled on her face.

“May I touch your shoulder? Where the arm is attached?” She waited patiently for his answer. 

“Yes ma’am,” Bucky nodded, his teeth gritted, looking out the window over the city. 

He did his best not to flinch when she touched his shoulder, her cold fingers tracing the line of scars where the arm connected to the shoulder. She was gentle, far more gentle than he was accustomed to. As she examined him and the arm, she kept up a running commentary of what she was doing, her voice soft and gentle.

“These are...your scars are far worse than Princess Shuri told me,” she murmured. “Whoever did this was not gentle, were they?”

“No,” Bucky growled.

Y/N’s mouth snapped shut. “I’m sorry,” she sighed after a few seconds. “I’m sure it’s difficult for you to discuss. I won’t mention it again. Let me run a few tests and I will get you out of here.”

Twenty minutes later, Y/N was thanking him for his time and excusing herself to look over the test results. Bucky said his goodbyes and hurried out of the lab, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable and unlike himself.

Of course, Steve was waiting in the hallway, leaning across from the door, watching him carefully as he stepped out.

“Why are you here?” he grumbled.

“Everything okay?” Steve asked.

“Fine,” he said.

“Were you nice to her?”

“I think so,” Bucky shrugged. “I didn’t pull my gun on her if that’s what you’re asking.”

“You took your gun in there?” Steve snapped, eyes widening.

Bucky hitched up his pant leg and showed Steve the gun strapped to his ankle, earning him a nervous laugh from his best friend.

“C’mon, let’s go grab a beer,” Steve said. “You can tell me all about it.”

*********

Over the next couple of months, Bucky found himself returning to the lab multiple times for one reason or another, but what it really boiled down to was that he enjoyed being around Y/N. She didn’t treat him like other people did. For starters, she didn’t seem to be afraid of him, which was a relief. No matter what kind of mood he was in when he walked through the door of her lab, she was more than kind. Even the time the damn arm completely stopped working - he couldn’t so much as move it - and he walked into the lab holding it by the elbow like a dead weight, swearing under his breath, scowling and biting the head off of anyone in his eyesight, well, even that time she didn’t so much as flinch.

He also respected the hell out of her. Aside from Steve, she was the only person who he could talk to about his time as the Winter Soldier. Her questions were never out of curiosity or nosiness, they were honest, genuine questions asked in relation to something about his arm, which usually led to full-on discussions about what had happened to him. The only other person he’d been so honest with was Steve; not even the shrink Fury had insisted he see after leaving Wakanda had been able to get him to talk like Y/N could.

“Come on, Buck, you know you like her,” Steve teased. Often. Repeatedly.

“Y/N is my friend,” he begrudgingly admitted.

“I know she’s your friend,” Steve sighed. “Aren’t you interested in seeing if there’s more? I think she might like you.”

Even though Bucky scoffed at the notion that Y/N might like him, he was interested in seeing if there might be more between them. Unfortunately, he had convinced himself that she wasn’t interested in him, not in that way. Her interest was in the study of his arm and its mechanisms and how it worked. Nothing more.

Despite his best friend’s encouragement, Bucky kept his growing feelings for Y/N to himself. He ignored the teasing and jabs of the other Avengers - Natasha’s too accurate observations about how often he had to have his arm looked at, Tony asking if he needed to pay Y/N overtime for all the extra time she spent with Bucky, and Clint’s damn smirky grins. 

Three months to the day after his first visit with her, Bucky found himself sitting at the same counter, flipping through the pages of the same book, waiting for her to walk through the door. At his elbow sat a drink holder with two coffees from Starbucks, a plain black coffee for him and a skinny vanilla latte for her.

He heard the lab door open and close, her quiet footsteps crossing the floor. He scrubbed his hands on his jeans and exhaled slowly. She eased onto the footstool beside him and rested her hand on the vibranium arm.

“Is it bothering you?” she asked, her fingers dancing over the metal plates. “I can run some tests if you need me to.”

“No, it’s nothing like that,” he shrugged. “I-I just wanted to see you.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.

“Oh,” she murmured, understanding registering in her eyes.

He expected her to withdraw her hand, to move away from him. After all, he was the Winter Soldier and the things he had done made him unlovable. It would hurt, but it wouldn’t surprise him.

She didn’t move. Her hand stayed on his arm and she smiled faintly. “Well, that took long enough,” she murmured.

“What did you say?” he asked.

Her eyes met his, the smile on her face making his heart leap. “I said, that took long enough,” she repeated. “You’re a hard one to win over, Sergeant Barnes.”

“Call me Bucky,” he mumbled.

“Bucky,” she said, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

He rested his hand on hers, squeezing gently. “You’ve been trying to win me over?”

“Every day since the day I met you,” she nodded. “Everyone tried to warn me, tell me that you were a little frightening, grumpy, hard to get along with, but the second I met you, I knew there was so much more to you than the stories I’d heard. I wanted to get to know you, the Bucky no one gets to see. And every day that you let me in a little bit more, I got my hopes up that it was finally working. But you’re so stubborn, so determined to push people away, I felt like for every step forward, I took two back. I’ve been wanting this for weeks, but I was afraid to push, afraid I’d scare you away.”

“Can I kiss you again?” he whispered.

Y/N nodded, so Bucky cupped her cheek in his hand and guided her to his mouth, his tongue dancing over her lips until they parted, allowing him in. He sighed as the kiss deepened, Y/N sliding off the stool to stand between his legs, her arms around his neck.

“I’ve never thought I deserved this,” he said when the kiss ended, as a way of explaining his reluctance. He wanted her to understand why he’d been so hesitant.

“You deserve to be happy,” she said, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear. “I’d love to be the one that makes you happy. If you’ll allow me to.”

“Why do you think I’ve been hanging around your lab, whining about my arm for three months?” Bucky chuckled. “I couldn’t think of any other way to spend time with you.”

“You could have just asked,” she laughed. “I would have said yes.”

“I guess I should have listened to Steve,” Bucky muttered. “Do not tell him I said that, though. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“I promise,” she grinned. She pressed a kiss to the center of his forehead.

Bucky hugged her close, his head tipped back to he could look at her.

“Thank you.”

“For what?” she asked.

“For not believing what everyone said. And for not giving up on me,” he replied.

They kissed again, all of the unspoken words from the previous months fueling their passion. Heat bloomed in Bucky’s chest and for the first time since he’d left Wakanda to join the Avengers, he thought maybe he could finally be happy.


End file.
